


Waiters and Cocktails.

by SoftFreeman



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: John is a waiter, M/M, Oneshot, Teenlock, They're at an italian restaurant, This kinda sucks I'm embarrassed, i don't know I've never done this before, maybe humour, my first fic oh god, oneshots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 08:10:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9063664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftFreeman/pseuds/SoftFreeman
Summary: John is a waiter at an Italian restaurant. Sherlock is eating there with a few classmates. Teenlock.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! This is my first fic. I didn't have anyone to look over it so please excuse any errors!

John looked down at his watch that read 4:45 PM. The restaurant would open in fifteen minutes and many people would rush down to their reserved tables with orders coming by the dozens. He didn’t blame them, really. Rebecca’s Italian Restaurant was a fantastic place with many meals to select from. Tables are decorated with fairy lights and scented candles sit in the middle of each table to create a calm atmosphere. Despite the slightly intimidating appearance, there was no dress code of sorts, and all were welcomed to dine from the afternoon till the late hours. John liked those qualities the restaurant had the most. It was a place where you could unwind and meet with friends, all while enjoying pasta. 

A clink of the cutlery being placed on the tables pulled him from his thoughts. “Come on John, we need to add the finishing touches to the tables before we can open this place up.” Harry hummed from behind him. John turned around to his sister and nodded, turning the lighter on that he held in his left hand as he set a candle alight. He was happy to work with his sister of course, but it seemed as though sometimes she was slightly bossy. Nevertheless, he continued fixing everything up right until 5:00 PM, in which the doors would finally open.

—

Sherlock disliked the concept of going out, especially with people. Stamford had insisted that Sherlock should go to this restaurant rather than stay home because him and his classmates ‘deserved’ the break of studying for finals. Although he was very indifferent to the idea, he accepted the invitation because enjoyed Italian food.

Molly stood outside the restaurant already, in a red dress with a white purse. She seemed to have put extra effort into her appearance, to say the least. Sherlock wore a black turtleneck sweater with jeans but felt slightly underdressed when he approached Molly. “Hey, Sherlock!” Molly broke into a grin when she saw him, “Irene’s on her way and Stamford’s just inside trying to get a table.” Sherlock nodded in acknowledgment and followed her along inside the restaurant, where he saw Stamford wave at them from table 16.

“It was a pain to book this in, but I’m glad I did. Hey Sherlock,” Stamford gestured the two to the chairs as Sherlock and Molly sat in them, “was it worth it to come here or what?” Sherlock took a sip out of the water provided and looked around, “I cannot deny this place looks promising.” His eyes paused to look at Irene at the entrance before waving his hand to capture her attention, “Irene’s here.”

She wore a black dress and as well as Molly, had put effort into her appearance. This, however, was nothing new; Irene always cared about the way she presented herself. “Hey,” she said as she sat down on a seat, “traffic was an absolute pain.”

A teenager approached the table with a set of menus on his arm, “I’ll be back in five minutes to take your orders.”

Molly leaned into the middle of the table to whisper urgently, “I can’t believe that waiter is serving us! I didn’t know he worked here.” Sherlock took a sip of his water as he held up a menu, “who’s that waiter?” He’d paid no attention to them; he was too focused on the interesting scent of the candle.

“John Watson,” Molly said. Sherlock choked on his drink, nearly spitting it out. Watson. John Watson. John. Captain of the football team in his school, the classmate in his science classes, somebody of which he had never engaged a conversation with. “What’s wrong darling?” Irene smirked, “cat got your tongue?” Sherlock eyed Irene from across the table, “no.” He said pointedly.

Stamford’s eyebrows raised, “does Sherlock have a thing for John?”  
“I don’t have a ‘thing’, for John. I merely observe him.”  
“Gay,” Molly muttered.  
“What was that?” Sherlock turned his head to her.  
“Nothing, I meant hey.” She smiled at him innocently. The other two began sniggering.

Sherlock scoffed at her and paid his attention to the menu as did the others. There were many meals but he settled on the intriguing bucatini with marinara and ricotta. The cocktails seemed promising but their names were oddly… creative. Blood, Orgasm and… Sex on the Table? Was that supposed to be remotely romantic? He couldn’t deny that the ingredients listed sounded good. After a short debate with himself, he’d decided to get the drink. Stamford hummed, “I think I’m ready to order,” and signaled John to come over.

He held his notebook and pen out, “hey Mike,” he smiled and nodded in acknowledgment to the others at the table, “ready to order?”

“Uh, yeah. I’ll have the Caprese salad with pesto sauce, and tea,” Mike grinned and Molly spoke up, “I’ll have the panzenella, please.” John wrote it all down in a fast pace as Irene began to speak, “bruschetta, thanks.”

Sherlock looked down at his menu and then up at John, “bucatini with marinara and ricotta, and I’ll also have ‘sex on the table’.” John looked up from his notes and stared at Sherlock, his cheeks growing pink with utter horror on his face. Stamford covered his giggling with his hand and both Molly and Irene choked on their water. What were they all so shocked about? Sherlock ordered like everyone else. A meal and a drink- _oh._ The drink.

He fumbled with his words, something of which he rarely does, “I mean- I meant the drink. The cocktail.” John nodded quickly, wrote it down, took the menus and hurried off.

“Oh my god Sherlock! Could you be any more obvious?” Irene laughed as he covered his face with his hands. Molly sighed, sympathizing him and Stamford was trying very hard not to laugh along with Irene. “It’s not my fault they gave that cocktail that stupid bloody name,’’ he hissed. Nobody was surprised when a different waiter came out with their food twenty minutes later.

After the meal, they all split the check and went their separate ways home, except for Sherlock, who stood outside the restaurant waiting for Mycroft to pick him up.

—

“Harry, can you just cover for me for five minutes? I need to talk to somebody.” John asked her. When Harry nodded in agreement John raced outside. He saw Sherlock standing in the dark and approached him, ‘hey, I don’t think we’ve formally met. I’m John. We’re in the same science class but we don’t really know each other that well.” Sherlock looked taken aback by his presence and stared at John with his piercing icy eyes, “The name’s Sherlock Holmes. I apologize for earlier.”

John grinned, “that was nothing, I just didn’t expect that. By the way, if you’re going to want to have ‘sex on the table’ at least let me take you out first.” John handed his number on a piece of paper to a slightly pink Sherlock and walked right back into the restaurant, feeling very pleased with himself.

**Author's Note:**

> So, that's pretty much it! I hope you liked it. Leave a comment, they'd be very much appreciated thank you. I think I might do more one-shots, just comment an uncommon or unique prompt. Thanks again, have a lovely day!


End file.
